Murder Undeniable : a gripping murder mystery

by Anita Waller

  Enid said nothing. What if there were a problem? Maybe they’d been trying, and it hadn’t happened. Maybe that hunk of a man was infertile, or maybe Katerina had a problem. She was only a slip of a thing…

  Enid would ask her, she could do subtle. Maybe.

  The restaurant was busy, but Leon had specified the corner table and so they got it. The waiter held the chair out and Katerina sat down, grateful she didn’t have to walk any further. Her everyday flat shoes that she wore during the week hadn’t prepared her for the discomfort of strappy gold high heels, and she eased her feet so that the shoes were half on and half off.

  ‘I’ve only walked fifty yards,’ she whispered, ‘and my feet don’t like it.’

  Leon grinned. ‘I’ll carry you back.’

  ‘I might hold you to that.’

  He picked up the menu and looked at his wife. ‘You’re beautiful.’

  ‘Why thank you, kind sir. I might say the same about you.’

  ‘Shall we just go home and go to bed?’

  ‘What? When I’ve worn these shoes? Not likely.’ And she looked down at her own menu.

  The waiter watched them carefully; giving them his full attention, as if his job depended on it.

  As soon as Leon Rowe laid down his menu and glanced across to him, the waiter moved.

  ‘Are you ready to order, sir?’

  ‘We are.’

  He took copious notes as the couple explained how they wanted their steaks, then disappeared, genie-like, into the kitchen.

  He reappeared seconds later with their champagne in a cooler and poured it for them.

  The evening went perfectly. They laughed, held hands, behaved exactly as two people deeply in love should do, apart from the incessant business Leon needed to sort, via his mobile phone.

  Leon had a problem; a trusted colleague had vanished, and he suspected another trusted colleague of causing the vanishing act. And the issue had arisen on his wedding anniversary, when he was out with his stunning wife, phone tucked securely into his pocket to stay there for two or three hours.

  Katerina believed his explanation that some drugs had disappeared from one of the pharmacies, and it was the police keeping in touch with him. After all, he was an important man in the community, and it was his business.

  They left the restaurant just before ten. The shoes were still a problem, and she kicked them off as they entered their front door.

  ‘Hallelujah!’ she yelled. ‘Remind me never to wear them again. I’ll stick them in the charity shop bag.’

  ‘Wear your trainers next time.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’

  He pulled her into his arms. ‘Thank you. It’s been such a lovely evening. Nightcap?’

  ‘For a non-drinker, I seem to have drunk a lot,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I’ll just have a small amaretto, on ice.’

  Leon moved to the drinks cabinet, took out two different bottles, then collected some ice. ‘Lots of ice?’

  Katerina nodded. ‘You know me so well.’ She closed her eyes, and let her head fall back on the sofa. She felt fat, full, and happy, a perfect evening.

  Leon handed her the drink. ‘Thank you for four wonderful years, my love.’ They clinked glasses and she smiled.

  ‘Been good, haven’t they?’

  ‘They have. They’ve been amazing.’

  Katerina sipped at her drink, wondering how on earth she was going to manage the stairs. Her wobbly legs were nothing to do with the dodgy gold sandals, they were all to do with champagne, brandy and now amaretto. She hoped Tibby, their ginger tomcat, had already headed off out for the night; she wanted no disasters caused by falling over him as he twined himself around her legs.

  Her lounge seemed to be full of flowers – Leon had presented her with two dozen glorious red roses, there had been a huge bunch from her parents, and an equally large bunch from Leon’s parents in Canada. It had been a struggle finding enough containers for them all, and a large drinks jug had had to be utilised, Katerina thought, with pronounced effect.

  When the delivery ordered in Canada had arrived, Leon had sat for a few minutes, just reading and stroking the accompanying card. She knew he missed his parents; she had met them for the first time at the wedding, but now, following a stroke, Alan was unable to travel. His face, once so like Leon’s, was now twisted, making speech difficult, and one side of his body was paralysed. Sue never left his side.

  Katerina vowed they would go to Canada and see them during the summer – surely Leon could take a couple of weeks off.

  Leon sat by her side and swung her legs up onto his knees. He massaged her feet. ‘Better?’

  ‘Getting there. Can you clear a couple of weeks in August for us to go visit your mum and dad?’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘You’ll do it.’

  He smiled. Nobody argued with a drunken deacon.

  ‘Leon, tell me about the phone calls.’

  ‘What phone calls?’

  ‘More the texts. You only had one phone call, and that certainly wasn’t from the police, because you told whoever it was to keep it strictly to texts. What’s going on?’

  ‘I’d spoken to the police earlier. The texts were from my staff who were doing a complete stock check following a police request. It seems there’s more missing than we had at first realised. Empty boxes that look like full ones, so they’re counted as being sixteen tablets. It has to be one of my staff, but I’ve no clue as to who it is. The one who was texting me is a manager from one of the other shops. He’s doing the stock check. I’m so sorry, did it spoil your night?’

  She shook her head. ‘No – sorry, I didn’t realise it was this serious.’

  ‘You want to see my phone?’ He held his breath. Say no. Say no.

  She laughed. ‘Of course I don’t. For a start, it’s your business phone, and I wouldn’t understand anything, but I wouldn’t check your phone anyway. I’m not that paranoid, drunk or sober.’

  ‘There was another issue that cropped up that I really couldn’t deal with. Remember Gill, the assistant in the Eyam shop? She texted to say she won’t be in tomorrow, she’s had a fall and she can’t put any weight on her ankle. I can’t expect Neil to run the place on his own, so I’m going to have to spend ten minutes now trying to get a stand in.’

  ‘I’ll do it. How hard can it be?’ She giggled. ‘I’ll go in with you in the morning. If there’s any awkward customers, I can ask Neil.’

  ‘You sure? That would give me tomorrow to sort it out properly.’

  ‘I’m sure. It’s only for a day, and won’t affect anything at church. What time do we need to get up?’

  ‘About seven. Sorry.’

  She struggled to sit up. ‘I think I’d better go to bed. You coming?’

  Leon laughed. ‘You think you can make it up those stairs on your own? I’ll take you up, then come down and make sure everything’s secure.’

  He helped her to stand, and she giggled again as she fell against him. ‘I think I was about eighteen last time I felt like this.’

  After helping her up to the bedroom, Leon seated her on the stool at the dressing table. He left her to remove any remaining make-up, had a quick two-minute shower in the en-suite, then returned to the bedroom. She scooped up the cleansing wipes and dropped them in the waste bin, before just looking at herself in the mirror. She could see Leon reflected just over her left shoulder, wearing only a white towel and carrying a glass of water. He took her breath away; the water droplets glistening on his dark skin were like diamonds against black velvet.

  ‘I thought you might need some water in the night,’ he said, and kissed the top of her head.

  The ruby around her neck glittered with amazing fire, deep deep red, even though the stone was a pink-red. She raised her right hand to touch it. It felt warm. She unfastened it and laid it on her dressing table. Such a beautiful stone.

  She placed the water on her bedside table and snuggled down. ‘I’m fine. It’s probably that I’v
e had more to drink than normal but my legs are very wobbly.’ She giggled for a third time.

  He kissed her lips. ‘Okay, you sleep. I’m going downstairs for a bit, listen to some music and finish my nightcap. I love you, Kat.’ He kissed her again.

  ‘Love you too,’ she said, and closed her eyes.

  Kat waited until she could hear soft music from downstairs, then crept out of bed and across to the ruby pendant, glistening in its box. She tentatively lifted it out and stroked it, such an amazing gift, then placed it back in the box, before leaving it on her bedside table. It would join the diamond pendant, the diamond bracelet and the emerald earrings, all previous anniversary gifts, in her safe in the morning.

  Sleep claimed her quickly, as she listened to the music of Beethoven flowing quietly up the stairs.

  Leon nursed the glass of whisky, savouring both the smell and the taste of it. He had enjoyed the evening so much with his woman, the absolute love of his life.

  He sipped at the whisky and felt his phone vibrate.

  The text from Terry Vincent was simple. Found PH. Says he buried GR in Ecclesall Woods. What do you want me to do?

  His response was equally simple. Bury him too. Text when he’s dead.

  He continued to sip at his drink, thinking about George Reynolds, the late George Reynolds it seemed. He’d have to do something about George’s wife and kids; perhaps pop in one day to ask her where George was, and leave her some cash when she said she didn’t know.

  It was a bit of a relief that Paddy Halloran was about to be exterminated. And he didn’t have a wife he needed to compensate. He’d been a loose cannon for a while, and killing George, one of his more reliable workers, had to be punished. It briefly gave Leon food for thought as he wondered how they had found out from Paddy that he had buried George in the woods…

  He wondered where in Ecclesall Woods the two men resided; he hoped it was in one of the denser parts, maybe they wouldn’t be found at all then. He made a mental note to ask Terry Vincent for the location, he wanted no surprises.

  His glass was empty, and he considered topping it up again, killing a little more time before going to bed. He wanted Kat to be soundly asleep, getting fully rested. She had a long and unusual day ahead of her, in the shop. The music was soporific, and he knew if he did give her more time, he would be in danger of falling asleep downstairs; he didn’t want that.

  Leon carried the glass through to the kitchen and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher. He switched off the music, checked all the doors and windows, set the alarm, and climbed the stairs.

  Pausing in the doorway of the bedroom, Leon looked at his sleeping wife. Taking off the white towel and putting it in the laundry bin, he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. He’d loved her from the first time he met her and wanted her by his side for always.

  But how long would she stay if she knew what his other life was like? He reckoned just long enough to grab the cat, pick up her fully loaded suitcase and throw her house keys at him, before running to her car.

  Chapter 3

  Beth Walters looked at herself in the long mirror. He’d requested that she look good, and she didn’t think he’d be disappointed. She had piled her long curly dark-brown hair on top of her head, adding six inches of extra height to her already impressive sixty-eight inches; her high heels added a further three inches. The yellow silk dress swirled around her knees as she walked, and she knew he would be knocked out.

  She smiled into the mirror, practising how she would appear to him the first time he saw her. She hadn’t been out with this one before; she knew him as Anthony Parkson but guessed that wasn’t the truth. Her clients rarely gave genuine names. The agency had vetted him before advising her of the name he wished to use.

  Her clients never said the names weren’t real, but she was no dummy. It didn’t take a genius to work it out, and she thought it was quite funny when she called them by the name she had been given, and they didn’t answer because they didn’t realise she was speaking to them.

  One more year. She had to get through her final year at Sheffield University and she could pack in what she laughingly termed “the escort business”. It wasn’t about escorting someone to an engagement, it was about the sex she occasionally had to perform afterwards.

  That was the real earner. She had learned to distance her mind from what was happening to her body, and the agency always paired her with someone of at least equal height, and reasonable good looks. For two years, she had saved most of her earnings, living on the very minimum that she could.

  After graduation she intended taking a year out and seeing the world. But that night, it was Anthony Parkson’s turn to use her. Her phone pinged, telling her he had arrived and was waiting outside. She switched off her lamp, called to Jo and Millie, her housemates, and headed out the door, locking it behind her.

  He was standing by his car, a long sleek black Jaguar. She felt a small frisson of excitement as she saw how good looking he was. This was, indeed, a bonus.

  ‘You have the password?’ she asked with a smile, as she walked up to him.

  ‘Wensleydale.’

  She held out her hand. ‘Hi, Anthony. My name is Beth.’

  He shook her hand and opened the car door. ‘Let me help you in. It’s a low-slung seat.’

  She lowered herself carefully into the car and locked her seatbelt into place.

  ‘Ready?’

  She nodded. ‘We’re going to the Alhambra?’

  ‘We are. I’m hosting a gathering of clients, potential new ones, and senior staff. They’ll be a fair amount of mingling to do, but you’re there primarily to look good on my arm. And you do,’ he added. ‘Look good, I mean.’

  ‘Thank you. I received your instructions.’

  He grinned. ‘Sorry about that, but it would have been awkward if you’d turned up in denim or something.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll let you down. I have to check your receipt from the agency for my fees before we go in, and then we can enjoy the evening.’

  ‘Of course. If you look in the glove compartment, you’ll see it.’

  She leaned forward, took out the piece of paper and quickly scanned it. It seemed an awful lot of money. She received half of it, the agency kept the other half. She quickly took a photograph of it with her phone and put it back in the glove compartment. ‘I photo it so that I can check my monthly fee payment from the agency. They’ve never been wrong, but there’s always a first time, and it will be the time when I forget to take the photograph.’

  He nodded. ‘Good business head as well as remarkably beautiful. What do you do in the real world, Beth?’

  ‘I’m a student.’

  Anthony smiled. She obviously didn’t want to give away too much.

  They chatted of inconsequential things and fifteen minutes later they pulled up outside the venue; a doorman stepped forward to take the keys and park the Jaguar. She almost envied the man; she wouldn’t have minded driving that car. It put her little red Mini to shame.

  They walked up the steps to the entrance which led into a magnificent hall. People were going up and down the glamorous stairway, all dressed immaculately. Beth didn’t feel out of place. She knew she looked good, and she was pleased to take the arm he held out for her. One day, she promised herself, she would meet a man like him for real.

  There was a heady smell of perfume in the air, expensive perfume. She excused herself to go to the bathroom before the meal started, and Anthony watched her walk up the stairs, along with at least ten other men all watching her.

  His own eyes never left the stairs; smiling as she returned to him.

  Shortly after, they went into the huge dining room, and the meal was served. She estimated there were around seventy people there, and it was clear that everyone knew Anthony. There was much laughter, drinking of wine and general good-natured banter, then Anthony rose to make a speech. He promised no business, told everybody they were there to enjoy the eveni
ng, and tomorrow was soon enough to get back to the serious undertaking of making money. His speech was received with a round of applause, and he sat down and took her hand.

  ‘Glad that’s over,’ he whispered. ‘I hate making speeches.’

  ‘Nobody would have known that.’ She smiled. ‘You did fine, very professional, and it was just long enough.’

  They were ushered to a side room after the meal while the room was cleared, and then everyone drifted back into the dining room, where a small jazz band had been hired to play for the evening. Beth loved it; the music was good, the ambience perfect.

  He referred to her as “my friend” every time he introduced her to someone new, although in a couple of instances she recognised the men she was being acquainted with; they were men who, while screwing her, had explained they used escorts because they had no wife. These men were standing by the side of their wives, looking as if they were wondering where they had seen the beautiful woman before.

  It was a good evening. By eleven, many had gone home, leaving a nucleus of about twenty who clearly wanted to party the night away, including Anthony.

  Someone suggested they go clubbing, and taxis were ordered. Anthony took it upon himself to advise the receptionist that there would be half a dozen cars in their car park overnight, as they were heading into town. They would be collected when his friends were sober enough to drive.

  The taxis arrived, and they were soon at Steel, the nightclub of choice for most of them.

  Beth had been several times. It always made her feel uneasy. The drugs were dealt openly, the music certainly wasn’t the wonderful jazz that had captivated her during the earlier part of the evening, and the lighting was so low it made seeing anything almost impossible.

  She sat on a bar stool and looked around her. Anthony remained by her side.

  He held up a hand and immediately the barman moved across to them. ‘Beth?’

  ‘I’ll just have a Coke, thanks, Anthony.’